


Dry Fire

by ridgeline



Category: Far Cry 4
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:01:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24357742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ridgeline/pseuds/ridgeline
Summary: Dry fire: to release the bowstring at full draw without having an arrow connected to it.
Relationships: Ajay Ghale/Pagan Min
Comments: 2
Kudos: 37





	Dry Fire

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Fuzziestpuppy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fuzziestpuppy/gifts).



> Thanks for my beta 69's patient works, love you mimic.

After the horror, the flew of De Pleur’s place, the battles, the headcounts, the rush of killing his way out of outposts, and the attempt to find where he should be headed, Ajay finally understand.

That foreign feeling that had haunted him for all his life got an explanation. He wasn't born for all this, but this new life felt right, like it was a custom-made suit. In every battle, the thrill flew through Ajay's vein, pounded into his heart. It was thunder and lightning, and he was riding on it. He was an arrow that left the string, flew straight to its target.

On the steep mountain road to Pagan Min's palace, Ajay stared at the snow on the peak through the windshield. He thought about everything that Pagan could say or do. But he couldn't come up with any. Ajay could only recall the last thing he remembered about Pagan. It was blood. In the beginning, bullets tearing the air, people moaning and gasping for last breath. So much blood sprayed on the ground, with a mad man's laughter.

Yet Pagan reached out for Ajay, like he was the only thing that matters.

A dried blood clot stuck on Ajay's arm. He peered it off.

Pagan was alone in his palace. The front door was open, showing a big, empty room. Pagan was sitting in the dark, waiting for him. Pagan didn't shoot, didn't threaten, didn't beg for his life.

He just stared at Ajay in silence, with a blank look.

Ajay stared back. In the dim light, he could feel the scope in him fixed on Pagan; his inner string was carefully drawn back. Ajay's heart was beating so fast, he could even hear the cracking sound of a bow about to shoot on its target. He was ready.

Pagan smiled.

_Look how beautiful you are, my boy,_ said Pagan with a joyful tone, _I was so proud of you._

All too slowly, Ajay's string loosed, the lightning fade, the rush gone. He was himself again. The American boy who just arrived, looking for a solution to his fucked-up life.

He didn't know what to do, just like the beginning of all this mess.

Pagan looked at him, waiting. Ajay opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again. No words escaped from it.

Then Pagan smiled again, reached out for him. Pagan's right hand hanging in the air, just a step far away from Ajay.

"I had been waiting for you for whole your life, " Said Pagan, softly, "You were born for this."

FIN


End file.
